When I first decided to commit to the #30DaysOfJoy Challenge, I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what I was signing up for.
Joy felt… slippery. Life with kids (and all the beautiful chaos the little blessings bring) often makes joy feel like a distant relative – you’ve heard of it, maybe sent it a text, but you haven’t actually seen it in a while.
Never mind the chaos of the “real” world, which seemed determined to see me, well, committed.
But as the days went on, I realized that even when you go looking for it, joy doesn’t always arrive in obvious packages.
Sometimes it’s a whisper in the chaos, a wink when you weren’t even looking. Here are a few surprising ways joy crept into my life during this challenge.
I am Parenting Teenagers…
I don’t imagine I need to say more, but just in case you’re not there yet – or this phase of parenthood is in your rearview, let me assure you that time Surviving Teenageria will change a person.
There are very few moments of being “right.” You are almost certainly outmatched, outwitted, and out-argued by a man-sized toddler who has yet to master the principles of personal hygiene but can wield the Socratic method like a ninja with a grudge.
Endless debates, the logic Olympics and hormones (theirs and mine!) can make joy feel elusive in Teenagaria.
And yet—after years of doing the most to ensure my son could cook, coaxing him into the kitchen consistently, and tasting more failed experiments than I’d like to remember—he surprised me. One night, he handed me a plate of pasta that rivalled my best efforts. While I couldn’t exactly taste the love (it was mostly garlic), I could feel it.
The lesson? Joy might look like years of investment paying off when you least expect it. But you have to slow down long enough to eat the damn bowl of pasta and be present enough to remember how you got here.
My nephew, the Three-Year-Old Zen Master
So my nephew is always welcome in my arms and my home. But when Baby boy spent the night at Auntie’s house, to say I was stressed would be an understatement. Little man has standards. And his latest expectation is starting every morning with a cup of peppermint tea like a toddler sommelier.
I know the risks of a toddler displeased in the morning posed to the rest of my day! I had agonized over ensuring the perfect balance of honey and making it just the right temperature. I stood by and tensely watched as he leaned back in his booster seat, took a sip, and declared, “This is good tea!”
I don’t know what enlightenment looks like, but I’m pretty sure it wears footie pajamas.
The lesson? Don’t overlook the simple joy of going all Goldilocks and getting toddler tea just right. It’s a validation you will carry with you all day. Or at least until you cut the crusts off with a red knife instead of the blue.
A Dishwasher Loaded by a Wild Raccoon
No, for real.
One night, I opened the dishwasher to find cups nestled inside bowls, forks shoved into glasses, and one suspiciously greasy plate teetering precariously on top. Of course, the cutting board was wedged in at just the right angle to block the water arm entirely.
I was this close to losing it—flashbacks of all the times I painstakingly explained the “right way” to load the dishwasher came flooding in. Then it hit me: I didn’t load this.
Without being reminded, my kids had taken it upon themselves to do it. They had even cleared the dishrack and every item was out of the sink and off the counter. Was it perfect? Not even close. But it was done.
The lesson? Joy can’t always be measured by the perfection of the task – sometimes it’s in the act of letting someone else take it on. Wild raccoon energy and all.
Bedtime Victory Laps
Here in Teenageria, my kids are often up way past my bedtime. So when the house finally quiets down and I’m still awake? That’s its own kind of miracle.
One night—granted, because both kids were sick (because yes, the “plague of the week” is still a thing in high school!)—the house was completely still. I sank into the couch with my tea (OK, fine, it was wine), turned on a raunchy, hilarious movie I much prefer to watch in peace, and just laughed my ass off.
The lesson? Joy sometimes comes after the chaos, in the unexpected quiet moments you steal for yourself.
Carpool Karaoke Hits
Turns out, joy is a family playlist where everyone knows the words to No Diggity but still argues about whose song comes next. Bonus points for my six-year-old niece joyously leading the group to sing along to Sweet Dreams, by Annie Lennox – Who am I to disagree!?
The lesson? Joy lives in shared moments of connection, even when they’re hilariously off-key.
Choosing Joy: A Radical Act to Keep Going
The #30DaysOfJoy Challenge taught me that joy doesn’t have to be grand or picture-perfect. It’s in the small, everyday moments—ones I might’ve overlooked if I wasn’t looking for them.
Now that the challenge is over, I’m not stopping. I actually don’t think it’s in my or anyone’s best interest for me to stop.
Because in a world that feels chaotic and overwhelming, choosing joy feels like a radical act.
And the more we find it, the more we can share it.
What’s Next?
Looking for more ways to sprinkle a little joy into your life? Check out our list of uplifting Morning Quotes to kick-start your day. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, some days joy needs a solid warm-up before it takes centre stage.
If you joined me in this #30DaysOfJoy Challenge, I’d love to hear the ways joy surprised you. Was it in the toddler’s tea rituals, an unprompted dishwasher loading, or something completely unexpected? Drop a comment below or swing by Instagram and share your story—I promise to laugh, cry, and cheer you on like the overinvested, joy-obsessed friend I am.
And if my musings have you inspired to start—or restart—your own joy journey, don’t worry about where you left off or how “perfectly” you complete it. There’s no right way to do this, no deadlines, and definitely no judgement. Whether you pick up where you paused or dive in for the first time, joy is there, ready for you to find it. It’s messy, unpredictable, and sometimes wears raccoon energy—but trust me, it’s worth every bit of it.
So let’s keep choosing joy together, one moment, one laugh, and one toddler tea party at a time. Because the world needs more joy, and we’ve got plenty to share.
Ready to keep the joy train rolling? Let’s do this!
